


Lover

by Ivybat



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: F/M, Romance Novel, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-02 00:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20447216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivybat/pseuds/Ivybat
Summary: Two strangers, one evening together. A vampire asks for a gift from his master and receives it. Of course, his master’s gifts always come at a price. Vampire/Witch.





	Lover

He couldn’t quite believe his luck, standing in the same room as the impossibly beautiful witch. Of course, the evening’s events had been even more preposterous. 

His master storming St Louis had been an act one could only describe as Insanity. (Which as it turned out was a rather accurate way of describing his master). The storming followed by then demanding gifts? Also insane. 

Apparently his master was the only vampire not to be invited to the American council, and had taken offence to this, deciding he should be able to then make demands of the St Louis Vampires in atonement. This was evidently more insanity, but who was he to question his master? 

It didn’t stop there of course, additional insanity ensued when his master demanded Romulus also be given a gift. He was a guard, muscle, somebody you didn’t pay attention to. It had shocked him when his master had asked Jean-Claude for a gift for him. When the Master of St Louis had turned to him and asked Romulus what he had wanted, he couldn’t contain his surprise. 

Romulus had given this some thought – it wasn’t often one was able to obtain a gift from a master vampire, and so he wracked his brain for what he could possibly want. Money, land, jewels? Not interested. Weapons? He had plenty of those. 

Every time his mind drew back to the beautiful woman he had encountered in the basement of the circus. She had no idea who he was or what his reputation was, but when they had stormed the circus of the Damned, she stood ready to fight him. Damien had called her ‘Lena’. Lena, beautiful hazel eyes, gorgeous auburn hair, the most flawless face, pouty full lips and a body a man could lose himself in. He was stunned by her strength, grace and sheer beauty. She was resplendent in the way only witches could be. His mind always drew back to her, and that’s how he found himself asking for the witch. Specifically, just one night with her. 

He should have felt horrified asking for an evening alone with a woman he had no acquaintance with. Did he really think she would come to him willingly? 

Of course, he was not the sort of man to force himself onto a woman. The chances were low that she would accept, even lower that she would join him in bed of her own choice. In fact, he suspected they might simply spend the evening talking. Romulus steeled himself for that possibility and found he didn’t mind the idea of spending an entire evening just talking to her. She had the kind of face one could watch for hours. 

Still, a small part of him hoped she might want to enjoy his touch. 

He wasn’t ugly by any means. He just clearly wasn’t from Belle Morte’s line, unlike many of the vampires of Jean-Claude’s kiss. All of them were handsome or beautiful, attractive, sensual. She would have her choice of such appealing men. She would not have a need for someone like him. 

Previous lovers had called him ‘rugged’, ‘angular’, and on one occasion, ‘chiselled’. Romulus suspected the striking witch would hardly be moved to fits of desire over rugged. 

Yet here they both were, and that must have meant something. She had at least agreed to spend the evening in the same room. She stood at the entrance of the door, tentative and shy. He had hoped she had come of her own choice, but knew it was more than likely that Jean-Claude had persuaded her or even forced her hand. 

He wanted to set her at ease, and so stood and nodded to her, and tried to think of something kind or normal to say. How did people speak these days?

“Good evening,” he said softly. That seemed right, or in the very least, polite. 

“Hi,” Lena stepped forward into the room, and arm crossed over her body, hand clasping her other wrist. 

“Thank you for joining me this evening,” he said

The witch simply nodded, her hazel eyes surveying the room. When they came to rest on Romulus, he was pleased to notice she didn’t seem repulsed or angry like he thought she might have been. Lena seemed curious, which was a place he could work from. Maybe she might let him touch her after all.

“Can I get you a refreshment?” he offered to the tray next to him, “tea, brandy…?”

“Wine,” she made unwavering eye-contact with the vampire, and walked closer, taking a seat on the lounge, “the pinot noir will do,” she nodded towards the dark bottle next to the brandy

“Of course,” he nodded, fixing her a glass as she made herself comfortable on the lounge. He leaned to hand her the glass, which she accepted with both hands, her warm fingers brushing his large ones. He marvelled at how such a sensation sent desire right through him. 

Romulus took a seat opposite her, watching her take a sip of the wine and relaxing back into the couch. Lena seemed peculiarly confident and relaxed for someone who had potentially been coerced into the situation. He berated himself, he should not have done it this way, he should have asked for something else. She must have been sickened by the sight of him; he was more beast than man. Of course if she was disgusted she hid it well. But then, Romulus supposed, when you were around vampires, you had to get good at masking your true feelings. He had learnt that the hard way. 

“So, Romulus,” she started, and then paused “Can I call you Romulus? Or do you prefer another name?”

“Romulus is appropriate”

She smiled, something had amused her, he wasn’t sure what but was relieved to see her smile. 

“Romulus,” she repeated, “I’m surprised I’m here.” 

“As am I,” he couldn’t stop himself. His answer seemed to shock her. She cocked her head to the side, gaze assessing him. 

Romulus wondered what she was thinking in that head of hers, and what she saw when she looked at him. Possibly the same thing everyone saw, a tall, fierce warrior, no doubt horrified by the array of scars and tattoos which she would be able to see peeking out of the top of his shirt and covering his hands. At least his face didn’t have too many of those, he supposed. Just two thin scars trailing from brow to cheekbone, where a sword had cut him so long ago. 

The attacker’s intention had been to blind him, but luckily his assailant was not as good an aim as he, and instead got the side of his face just missing the eye. He watched her assessment carefully, not detecting any sense of disgust or horror. 

“Why are you surprised?” she finally asked after a long pause, “You asked for me, didn’t you?”

“I mean to say, I’m surprised you agreed to come.”

“I suppose,” she nodded and smiled a curious little half smile which tugged at the corner of her mouth, “I guess I was just intrigued by you. I’m curious about the kind of man who uses his chance to get anything, and I mean anything, from the master of a city, and decides he wants to spend an evening with a woman he hardly knows. A witch no less.” 

He nodded, watching her as she continued to talk. 

“You know you could have asked for money, or a position or a small country’s worth of cheese.” She finished, one shapely eyebrow raised at him. 

“I don’t have much use for cheese.” Romulus replied. 

“I suppose not,” She was laughing at him again; he had done something obviously silly. He didn’t mind though, as long as she kept looking at him and talking to him. She seemed to relaxed in her body as she took another sip of the drink and placed it on the side table next to her. 

“Where is your name from, Lena?”

“I was named after my grandmother– I’m lucky to share the name with her. She was a strong and powerful witch, she ruled over our coven. She was also kind and loving. But definitely the kind of witch who could pack a wallop if you messed with her. I’d like to think I take after her.” The witch replied, her gaze falling to the ground in front of her. 

“Was she beautiful like you?” he asked.

Her eyes snapped up back to his. That seemed to startle her, possibly it was the wrong thing to say. Foolish vampire that he was. Something about her made him say everything and anything that crossed his brain. He could have kicked himself!

“I’m sorry,” He apologised, “That was forward of me,”

Lena nodded, a small smile returning to her pretty mouth, “It was, but I liked it,” she shrugged, “Not as forward, of course, as asking a woman to spend the night with you.”

“I’ve offended you, I’m sorry,” He said as gently as he could, “Please, you don’t need to stay. If you leave now, there will be no ill will.”

“No, I’m fine,” she replied, reaching to take a sip of the wine, “I kind of want to stay, actually.” 

“You do?” Romulus had hoped he had managed to hide any trace of desperation in his voice. 

“Sure,” she nodded, “I mean, I’m not used to men asking me to spend the night with them. Well – not in such a polite way, anyway.” She took another sip of the wine, “Your modern counterparts just send pictures of themselves naked.” She shook her head and smiled, “Its pretty disgusting actually, and a little bit sad that dating has been reduced to pictures of people’s anatomy.” 

He was genuinely confused, “But why would a man woo a woman like you so crassly?”

Lena laughed again, “You need to stop with the compliments, you’re going to make my head swell up and there won’t be any coming back from it” she looked to the side, her face flushing sweetly, “So then, how might you woo a woman like me?” her eyes returning to his. 

She was flirting with him! Romulus couldn’t believe it, but he was certain she was flirting. 

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Romulus answered truthfully.

“You have no plan?”

“I have no plan,” he nodded, “As I said, I’m surprised you’re here, I’m surprised we are even having a conversation. I was worried Jean-Claude had coerced you.” 

“No, he just asked.” She shrugged, “the Master of St Louis isn’t usually one for sex trafficking.” 

Romulus pondered this information for a bit, “So you are here of your own will?”

“Yes,” she said taking another sip of the wine, “you really seem thrown by that.” 

She had read him so easily, he cursed himself for being so open. Something about her nature drew him to be honest with her. No doubt it would be his undoing. 

“Not many women would be brave enough to step in a room alone with me. You can see what I look like, can’t you?” He asked, half joking.

“20/20 vision,” she replied, “My eyes are perfect.”

All of you is perfect, he wanted to say. But stopped himself. He wished he could drink, or have something he could do with his hands instead of just having them in his lap. He felt restless and awkward. 

“I had forgotten to ask if you were courting someone else, are you?” he found himself asking, “I should not have presumed,” 

He wanted to punch himself as soon as it came out of his mouth, and briefly pondered whether the witch had somehow managed to put some kind of truth curse on him when he wasn’t looking. 

“No,” she stated, “I’m not the kind of woman who would agree to spend a night with a man if I was dating someone else. Even for a brooding, sexy vampire like you.” 

That threw him, she was flirting again, and he didn’t know what to do with himself, except nod, hoping she took the silence for masculine poise, rather than shyness. 

“Are you courting someone?” she asked suspiciously, raising that damned eyebrow at him again. 

“No,” was his stark reply. He didn’t want to tell her anything further than that. The fact was he was alone and not by choice. He seemed to be unable to attract the fairer sex for more than an evening. The idea of courting a woman was almost entirely foreign. The women he seemed to encounter were either too terrified of him, or tended towards more genteel looking men. 

“Good,” Lena said, her eyebrow lowering. 

“Good?” he was confused.

“Good,” she nodded, “I don’t like unfaithful men.” Lena frowned, “I’ve been with too many of them.” 

“I can’t imagine what kind of man might be unfaithful to you,” it had slipped out, but he was genuinely perplexed. A woman who looked the way she did should have men throwing themselves at her, queuing up just to talk to her, not being unfaithful. That did not signify. 

Lena just smiled, standing up to refill her glass. He stood with her, and took the glass,

“Allow me,” he said, “Would you like the wine again?”

“Sure,” She sat back down, she seemed fidgety all of a sudden, playing with her hands. He fixed her the drink and handed it back to her. She clasped the glass with one hand, and her other hand came to touch his hand.

“Do these tattoos cover your entire body?” she brushed her finger across the swirl on his hand before taking her own hand back. He pulled back, realising that standing over her was possibly intimidating. 

“May I?” he nodded towards the seat next to her. 

“Of course,” she smiled. He took the seat next to her and rolled up the sleeve to reveal more of the tattoo swirls which covered parts of his arm. 

She put the wine glass down and without hesitation traced the swirls up his arm with her finger tips, apparently enjoying the design. She didn’t look terrified in the least. Most people of his acquaintance were horrified by them, and that’s what they were supposed to be. They were markers of his masculinity and his tribe. A tribe long gone from this world. 

“You’re Iceni,” she drew her attention away from the tattoos and looked at him with a light in her eyes. She was so close, he could have pulled her too him and kissed her on that beautiful mouth. But he resisted. 

“Yes,” he eyed her curiously, what did she know of his people?

“Sorry”, she tucked her hands underneath her, “I’m being rude.”

He shrugged, and then added, “you can touch me however you please.”

Her smile returned and he felt his heart leap. He knew then he would allow her anything, just to keep the smile on her face. She leaned to touch the opening of his shirt neck and gently pulled the shirt down, peeking at the tattoos which lay there. Her long fingers were sending thrills through his neck and up his skull. She had a magic touch which seemed to cause his body to burn in desire for her. She must not have realised how she moved him, leaning closer to inspect. He could feel her breath tickling his neck. Any closer and she’d practically be in his lap. 

“Do they cover your entire body?” she asked. 

“Not all of it, most of my arms, chest and back. I have a few on my legs and one on the back of my head, but my hair does cover it.”

She continued touching the little swirls she could find, coming to reach for his other hand and following the pattern on the back of it. 

“Did you get all of these tattoos at the same time? Was it painful?” Lena continued her delicate perusal of the swirls up his arm. He tried to still himself with every fibre of his being so as not to scare her. 

“No, they were given at different times, they have different meanings. And yes- terribly painful. Although one comes to embrace pain after a while.” He replied. 

She pulled away, her hands coming to rest in her lap. He willed them to come back and touch more of his skin. The little caresses of her fingers had been the sweetest and softest touch he had experienced in a long time and he craved it again. 

“Do you have any tattoos?” he asked, trying to steer his thoughts away from the idea of taking her in his arms. 

She nodded and looked a bit embarrassed, “Nothing gorgeous like yours though.” It was funny, but he had never thought of his tattoos as ‘gorgeous’ before. “I’m afraid mine was the result of a drunken 18th birthday, and not a sacred ritual.” 

He smiled then, “May I see it?” 

“Ok,” she nodded, pink tinging her cheeks, “but you have to promise not to laugh.” 

“I swear,” he said, intrigued. 

She turned around and gently smoothed her shoulder strap down to reveal a beautiful expanse of smooth skin. His mouth felt dry, and he could feel his cock pulsing. She continued to push the dress down further, passed her shoulder blade. There is was, a little rainbow unicorn, maybe the size of a large coin. 

He couldn’t stop his hand from tracing the little thing on her shoulder, marvelling at how smooth her skin was, and how warm it felt. He understood, then, her need to trace his tattoos, he felt hypnotised by its edges and colours. More then that, he felt the ridiculous urge to kiss it. He smoothed a thumb over it, admiring how it almost seemed to dancing on her skin as she breathed. 

The moment seemed to grow longer, as he contemplated the little tattoo, wondering how it was that a seemingly innocuous little thing could stir so much heat in him. 

Her skin, he noticed seemed to become gooseflesh as he continued to trace the outline of the tattoo. She turned to look at him over her exposed shoulder. He turned his attention away from the little unicorn and stilled. He was shocked to see her eyes half-lidded and glazed with yearning. Lust for his touch, it couldn’t be. He wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but one moment he was touching her little tattoo and the next, she had turned around, placed a tentative hand on his chest and pressed her lips against his. 

It was a moment of pure symphony, her lips were exquisitely soft and gentle against his, moving in a slow exploratory fashion over his. He tentatively brought an arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap, his other hand coming to cup her face, as he deepened the kiss. 

Romulus was pleased to notice that she tasted of the wine. He couldn’t remember the last time he had tasted wine, relishing the smooth and fruity flavour. She seemed moved by his kiss, her mouth opening to his caresses with his tongue. He slipped his tongue inside and she utterly melted, moaning into his mouth. 

He felt his control hanging by a thread. He couldn’t figure out what was going on – did she want him? Was this just out of duty? He needed time to think on this, but was too enraptured by the sensation of having her in his arms. He had to get some space. 

He reluctantly pulled back, annoyed with himself for having to part from her intoxicating lips. He surveyed her face, she was flushed, her pouty lips parted and red from all the kissing, her eyes half-lidded and glazed. He smoothed his hand from her cheek down her neck and shoulder, pulling off his lap and returning her back to her seat.

“What are you doing?” he asked, he knew his voice had come out deeper than he had intended. He could feel the persistent urge of his manhood pressing against the seam of his pants. He willed himself to calm, he needed to gather himself, the woman before him clouding him. 

She seemed to snap out of her daze, and swallowed, “I wanted to kiss you, so I did.”

“Why?”

“Why did you want to spend the night with me?”

“I find you enchanting” he replied honestly, “But I don’t think I am the kind of man you desire.” 

She frowned, “What do you know about my desires?” 

“In my experience women who look like you much prefer the company of men who look like Jean-Claude,” 

She nodded, “I suppose that’s true in some cases, but sometimes women who look like me look for other things in a man.”

“Like what?” he asked, wanting so desperately to pull her underneath him and kiss her again. 

“Like their hands, for instance.” She said, reaching out to touch his hand. He looked at how much smaller hand hand was on his. She turned his hand over, trailing her nails on his large palm. The interaction sent tremors through his body, he closed his hand over hers, engulphing it in his. 

“Hands are very important,” Lena continued, “They tell you a lot about a man.”

“And what do my hands tell you about me?” he asked as he opened his large hand, releasing hers. Except, instead of taking her hand back like he expected, she trailed her hand up his arm, and smoothed it over his shoulder, and up to cup his cheek. 

“Your hands tell me that you’ve always worked hard,” she leaned forward, her lips hovering over his. “They look like the kind of hands that have done a lot and given a lot,” she murmured, placing a sweet kiss on his lips, she pulled back, the unmistakable look of desire in her eyes. 

He knew his eyes must’ve reflected her own, he could feel the blood pumping through his veins, screaming at him to take her then and there. He imagined himself pushing her back on the lounge and hiking the dress up around her waist just before thrusting himself into her. He stilled himself, willing himself to stop imagining how it might feel to be inside of her and pay attention. 

“What else do you look for?” he tried to keep the yearning from his voice. He knew he was being foolish. What kind of woman would be interested in him?

“Shoulders,” she trailed her hand from his cheek to rest on his shoulder and squeezed, “I like looking at a man’s shoulders. I’ve always found a man with shoulders like yours very sexy. And of course eyes,” her gaze resting on his face, and she leaned closer to take a look at his eyes in closer detail, “and lips,” her gaze shifted to his mouth, and he felt his cock twitch watching her assess his lips under such scrutiny. Her hand moved to caress his jaw. 

“I’m surrounded by beautiful men,” she sighed, “But I have a bit of a problem, you see.”

“What is that?”

“I never much cared for men who are pretty, who have longer hair than I do, or slighter frames.” She snorted in a decidedly un-ladylike manner, “Actually, I prefer men who look more like you, which is quite good luck really, because here you are.” 

He felt taken-aback. Surely she was jesting. Men who looked like him? What did that mean? 

She leant forward and kissed the corner of his mouth, “Do you want me?” She asked in a hushed whisper.

“More than anything else,” he felt himself say. And he knew he meant every word of it. He wanted the witch more than anything he had every wanted in his life. He felt so drawn to her, as if he would expire if he didn’t get to touch her perfect face and body further. 

“So, I’m here,” she replied, “Why don’t you take me to that bed over there and make love to me?”

“I want to,” he said, bringing his hands to clasp hers, “But I don’t think you want to.” He shook his head and stood up, bringing her to stand up with him, “You should go,” he nodded towards the door, “You have been splendid company and I will hold this evening in my heart forever.” 

She cocked her head to the side and smiled a michevieous smile, which should have made him nervous, but all it did was set his heart in an excited pitter patter against the cage of his chest. 

She nodded, “Well can I have one favour then, before I leave?” 

“Anything,” he said, hypnotised by her sweet face. He meant that too – he would give her anything she so desired. Gold, jewels, a house. He would walk into the sun if it were something she wanted him to do. 

“Take me to that bed, take my clothes off and take me,” she sighed, pressing her body against his chest, “Ever since you stepped into the circus tonight,” she bit her lip, gazing up at him, “I’ve thought of nothing else. There’s something about you that pulls me towards you. I don’t know what it is, but I can see you feel it too.”

“I do,” he said, his arms coming to wrap around her body, “I thought you might have set an enchantment upon me.” 

“I’m not that kind of witch,” she shrugged impishly. 

Lena grasped his hand and pulled them both towards the bed and sat him down on it. She stood before him, staring at his face as he gazed at her tenderly. Romulus wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled Lena to him, angling his head up and kissing her soundly on the mouth. He pulled her down to the bed underneath him and continued his exploration of her hot mouth. He slipped a tentative hand up her body, enjoying the feel of her curves under his hands. 

She managed to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off to reveal his body. If there was ever a moment she might pull back, it was now. Most people were terrified of the scars and tattoos on his chest and back, cumulated over years and years of fighting. She smoothed her hands across his chest, marvelling at the feel of the strong, large muscles under her fingers. 

“All these scars,” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss one, “Where did they come from?” 

“Fights, battles, duels,” he murmured, “As my master’s guard I am usually in the line of fire.”

“That must be hard,” she said, kissing another scar, trailing kisses across his chest, “You’re so gentle, I can’t imagine how you’ve earnt all these scars,”

“I have not often been described as a gentle person,” he marvelled at the sensations of her touch and kisses across his chest and neck. 

“Then they don’t know you, because you have been nothing but gentle with me,” she murmured, capturing his lips in a kiss and trailing her nails down his back. 

Romulus kissed down her neck and to her breasts, squeezing the large firm mounds in his hands. She responded beautifully mewling in arousal, back arching her breasts towards him. He smoothed her dress off, delighting in the discovery that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He felt his mouth water at the sight of her bare breasts, beautiful, plentiful and tipped with large dusty pink nipples. He couldn’t stop himself from engulfing one with his mouth. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, moving to cover the other breast with his mouth. She dug her hands into his hair, arching against his mouth and moaning. Romulus sucked her nipples until they stood tall and puckered from the attention. He marvelled at their perfection, delighting in the little moans escaping from the witch’s mouth as he petted, licked, sucked and kissed her taut nipples. 

Lena brought his mouth up to hers for another kiss, grinding her hips against his, sighing in delight at the friction created between their nether regions. He felt her smooth a hand down to the buttons of his trousers, rubbing his aching cock through the pants. 

“You don’t have to touch me,” he heard himself pant, “you can lay there and I can pleasure you.”

“I want to touch you,” she bit her lip, “I’ve wanted to touch you all evening.” 

She undid the buttons, delving into his trousers to touch the scorching hot flesh of his manhood. As soon as her hand made contact he groaned, the relief and pleasure immediate. He watched as Lena pulled his pants off of his legs, and came back up to stroke and explore his flesh. She was momentarily distracted by the swirl of tattoos trailing up his thighs, tracing and kissing them. She finally brought her attention to the large pulsing organ between his legs. She smoothed her delicate hand down his shaft and squeezed until Romulus thought he might burst from the pleasure. He watched powerless as her little tongue darted out to taste him, swirling around the head of his cock. 

Romulus tried to gain back control of the situation, pushing the witch down to the bed, holding her hands above her head well away from his aching manhood. He released her hands, satisfied that she would stay there and trailed his hands down her body, enjoying the feeling of her smooth, warm skin and lush curves. He carefully slipped her underwear off, to reveal her perfect sex, he marvelled at how aroused she had clearly become, the smell of her desire invading his nose. He used his hands to spread her legs and lay between the pinky folds at the apex her thighs. He brought his face to her heated core, latching his mouth to the sweet nub of her fleshy sex, licking and gently sucking. He was amazed at how wet she became, her liquid arousal coating his mouth as he explored her, occasionally thrusting his tongue inside of her. 

“Oh Goddess,” she seemed to be chanting over and over again, squirming and bucking under his exploration. With two flicks of his tongue against her clitoris, she felt herself explode in pleasure. Her hips spasmed off the bed as the orgasm shook her body. She cried out, reaching for him. Romulus was delighted that he had pleasured her so. He could not remember being with a woman who responded so eagerly and warmly to his touch. 

He slid up her body, bringing his cock to her slick entrance and teased her. Lena thrust her hips forward, impatiently engulphing him inside of her in one move. He tried to still her hips, laying his weight onto her. She didn’t seem to find him too heavy, instead wrapping her legs around him and continuing to try and thrust against him. 

“Lena,” he groaned, “if you continue to move against me like that, I will not last much longer.” 

Lena smiled, and whispered, “good,” biting his neck as she continued thrusting against him. He used all of his strength to keep himself from exploding inside of her, thrusting in and out of the witch as slowly and surely as possible, stoking the fires of orgasm again in her. 

He brought his face to hers, to continue kissing her as he moved inside of her, basking in the pleasure of her sex, as she clenched around his cock. As she neared closer to orgasm, Lena became wild, her hips thrusting in a frenzy as she sought her release. He brought gentle fingers down to the little sensitive nub between her thighs and caressed her. Lena exploded around him, her walls clenching uncontrollably as she came. 

He swallowed her moan, as he continued moving against her, his thrusts becoming more and more frantic as he reached his own climax. With one final thrust, he spent himself inside of her, collapsing on top of her. She had her legs wrapped around his waist, refusing to release him. 

Lena’s breathing was heavy, and her body slick with sweat from the exertion. Romulus placed a gentle kiss on her swollen lips, before pulling out and collapsing next to her. She turned to snuggle into the side of his body, bringing a small hand to rest across his chest. 

They rested that way for a few minutes before Lena spoke up. 

“Can I stay a little longer?” She asked quietly, using her finger to trace the swirls of his tattoos. 

“You can stay as long as you wish,” he replied, laying his hand over hers and gently squeezing. 

They lay in silence, both enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s presence. Romulus reflected on how right it felt to have her in his bed and in his arms. He couldn’t quite believe how things had turned out. She had wanted him, desired him, she had sought to make love with him. But then, another sadder thought hit him, he would most likely never see her after this night. He felt anguish pierce his heart. This had evidently been his masters plan. His master was the sort of man who gave two-sided presents, the sort that was half punishment, half bliss. To give him a night of pure paradise, then to leave with little chance of ever seeing her again. 

‘One night, and one night only, Soldier,’ his master had said, turning with a cruel smile he said, ‘you will then return to me at dawn, is that clear?’

He wanted to curse his master, hit him, punish him. His master had clearly thought this was a gift, another way of controlling Romulus and keeping him restrained and satisfied. But now he wanted freedom more than ever. 

He tightened his hold on her, wishing dearly he might be able to have some sort of control in this situation. But more fool him, he knew his master too well at this point, there would be no such luck. There would be punishment, consequences if he dared disobey. 

Lena was the first to speak, mirroring his thoughts,

“Will I see you again, after tonight?”

“Probably not,” 

“Oh,” she sounded deflated, “I thought – I thought that maybe you had enjoyed being with me?” 

He turned to her and frowned, “Making love to you, being with you; it is an unparalleled experience.” he placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, “But my master’s gifts do not work in such ways,” 

“Then stay here,” she said, “Stay with me. I can’t explain it, but this connection between us is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Surely it deserves to be explored?” 

“I would wish to the gods I could, but my master would kill me before allowing me to stay with Jean-Claude.” 

Lena felt her heart stutter, and she sat up, feeling her chest tighten. She shook her head whispering ‘no’ over and over again. Romulus sat up with her, placing a steadying hand on her back, to sooth her. She leant into his touch, allowing him to wrap his arms around her smaller frame and pull her into his chest. 

“We have had such a wonderful evening,” he soothed, “Let us make the most of it, while we still have a few hours left,” The little witch looked at him tearfully, and brought her face to his for a lingering kiss. They sat like that for some time, Romulus leaning against the frame of the bed, Lena curled against his chest, his strong arms holding her tightly, their mouths moving desperately against each other as if the world was about to end.

Romulus was angry with himself, he should have left well-enough alone. He should have kept to himself, not dragged her into the mess of his life. It had been selfish to pursue her. But yet, he could not help but feel a sense of happiness as well, as he held the beautiful woman in his arms. 

“Romulus,” she said softly, kissing his neck “I’m falling in love with you,” the words made his insides simultaneously feel sick and euphoric, “You can’t show me such love and pleasure and expect me to just leave you.” 

“You are young,” he heard himself say, “I can guarantee there are a million men more deserving of your love than I.” 

“You’re wrong,” Lena shook her head, leaning back to look at his face, “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. I felt that way as soon as I walked into this room. There’s something about being with you that makes the world feel right.”

Romulus smiled sadly, “It makes my heart so happy to hear you say that, Lena.” He swallowed, “and if we are being honest with each other, you should know I have loved you since the moment I saw you at the circus tonight.” 

He brought his lips to hers again, kissing her with every fibre of his being. 

They spent the next few hours whispering stories of their lives to one another; some funny, some silly and some simply sad. For those moments they could pretend that their burgeoning love wasn’t ill-fated. 

It was two hours before sunrise when Lena turned to Romulus, placed a long kiss on his lips and asked him to make love to her again, one more time before the day took him. And so they did, moving against each other more urgently than the first time, their lips never leaving each other’s, their bodies always moving in sync as if they were one whole person, instead of two. Finally, they reached that glorious completion together. 

Afterwards Romulus felt his heart sink, noticing that shortly the sun would rise taking him from her, and it would be unlikely that they would see each other ever again. He smoothed Lena’s hair from her face gently, kissing her on the eyelids, cheeks, mouth and jaw. 

“The sun will rise soon,” she said, a sad little smile gracing her delicate face.

“I know,” he whispered, “but I’m trying to use every last minute to remember you like this, in this perfect moment.” 

Lena felt tears spring to her eyes and caressed his face gently, “we’ll see each other again,” she nodded firmly.

“Of course we will.” He promised. He gave her a kiss, and stood to leave to go back to his coffin and back to his master. He grabbed his clothing, dressing himself sombrely. 

She stood up with him, pulling on her dress and faced him, she couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at him, instead looking at her feet. Finally dressed, he turned to her and took her hand in his. He kissed the palm of her hand and placed his signet ring in it. 

“Take this, dearest Lena,” he closed her hand, “Its belongs to you now. It is the signet of my family and tribe.” 

She looked up at him, her eyes large with emotion. 

“I have nothing to give you,” she whispered as she held the ring to her chest. 

“You have given me more than I deserve,” he leaned down and placed a final kiss on her waiting lips. The moment was tense, sorrowful and sad. Romulus felt as if the room around them was falling apart, being torn away by some terrible force. He pulled away, and continued, “You would honour me by wearing this ring always, it will keep you safe.” 

Lena nodded, sliding the gold ring on her index finger, “Goodbye then, Romulus,” 

“Farewell, Lena,”

**Author's Note:**

> My first One-Shot based in the Anita Blake World. All feedback welcome


End file.
